Security Blanket
by Rhino7
Summary: Olette is babysitting and freaking out. Hayner and Pence try to help...Keyword try. Contains fluff and squint-worthy Haynette.


**Security Blanket**

**By Rhino7**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Kingdom Hearts, its characters or storyline. I also don't own any of the songs that are featured in this. I own this little ditty. I don't remember what inspired it, but I thought it would be funny to see how the Twilight Town gang would handle being around a baby. Thus, I ended up with this. It takes place a few years after KH2; basically they're all out of college and in the work force. I guess they're in their mid-twenties. Also, there be hints of Haynette fluff, because they're my latest obsession. Enjoy.**

**..:--X--:..**

"I can't—it—too much—help—eek—this—"

"Olette, you aren't speaking any language I've ever heard before."

"Four—sleep—days—ears—"

Pence lifted an eyebrow and Hayner moved the phone away from his ear. Olette had been reduced to a squeaky, panicky mess.

"Are you all right? Where are you?" Hayner tried to speak over the squeaking.

"Apartment—dizzy—won't stop—"

Hayner frowned. "What's wrong? Are you okay?"

"Just—get over here!" She abruptly hung up.

Pence's eyebrow couldn't go any higher, so he cleared his throat. "What's up?"

Hayner pushed his phone back into his pocket. "She's either having a stroke or they killed off one of her favorite characters on that dumb show she watches."

"Are we running damage control?" Pence prompted.

Hayner exhaled. "We better get over there before she goes to the bad place. Come on."

The other side of Olette's apartment door was crying and the sound of things hitting the floor. The boys exchanged trepid looks before knocking timidly. Before Pence could withdraw his fist, the door swung inward and they found themselves face to face with Full Panic Mode Olette.

"Oh, thank God!" Tears welled in her eyes as she pulled the door open wider to let them in.

Their eyes, however, were glued to the thing she was holding against her chest.

"What is that?" Hayner pointed.

Pence took a step into the apartment, crossing the threshold into dangerous waters, leaning forward. The baby in Olette's arms continued to sob and wail against the girl's shoulder, while Olette bounced back and forth, looking three shades past nervous breakdown. Hayner didn't follow. He nearly took a step backward, in fact.

"She's been crying for hours and I've tried everything." Olette's voice was high pitched and cracking. "She won't eat. She won't sleep. I tried burping her and changing her and playing peek-a-boo and nothing works!"

Pence lifted his hands placatingly. "Breathe, Olette. Whose is she?"

Olette kept her bloodshot, red rimmed eyes on Pence's face, breathing deeply a few times before continuing to bounce on her heels. "Becky—college roommate—baby—out of town—"

Pence tilted his head and reached out to her. "Hand her over before you drop her."

"Thank you." Olette sobbed, "Thank you, thank you, thank you."

Pence took the screaming little bundle, wincing as the baby settled her mouth against his ear. Olette hugged her arms to herself, chewing on her pinky nail and watching the baby.

"Okay, you can stop bouncing." Pence kept his voice calm, for his friend and the little girl.

Olette nodded, but didn't stop bouncing on her heels.

"Now, what—" Pence glanced back. "Hayner, get in here and help."

Hayner shook his head like a reluctant five year old, eyes glued to the wailing infant and knees locked just shy of the door frame. "I'm good over here, thanks."

Pence rolled his eyes and looked back to Olette. "Whatever. Now, why do you have a baby?"

Olette swallowed a few times, voice still shaky. "My roommate from college, Becky, she had to go out of town on short notice and couldn't find a babysitter. Her family lives all the way out on Enchanted Castle and I'm apparently the only person she thinks she can rely on." She said in a rush.

Pence nodded, joining Olette in bouncing to try and placate the crying baby. "How long?"

"I've had her for two days, but Becky won't be back for another two." She wheezed.

"What's her name?"

"Sarah."

Pence bobbed his way deeper into the apartment, closer to the far wall in the living room. Olette continued to bounce, turning to see Hayner, still planted in the doorway.

"If you aren't coming in, close the door." She stammered. "I've already had two noise complaints."

Hayner grunted something unintelligible, shuffling awkwardly into the apartment, pushing the door closed after him. He turned around to face her again, hands shoving deep into his pockets and keeping a wary eye on the baby Pence was holding.

"I'll—make some coffee." He slid along the wall, pressing himself as far from Pence and Sarah as possible, maneuvering into the small kitchen.

Olette staggered over to the kitchen table, sinking into the only chair that didn't have clutter in it, dropping her head into her hands. Hayner awkwardly flipped through the cabinets, finding the coffee fixings and starting up the coffee maker. Sarah continued to cry, and Pence started to spin as he bounced. So maybe he had taken Sarah to give Olette's arms a break, but Olette had placed herself on the other side of the room now, effectively pushing the baby on him. And Hayner…he obviously wasn't going to be any help.

"You've been listening to that for two days?" Hayner asked incredulously, placing three mugs on the counter.

Olette nodded, running a hand through her frizzy, tangled hair. "I don't know what to do. I didn't know who else to call—"

"So you called two guys who have NEVER been around babies?" Hayner retorted.

Pence glared. "Don't make her squeak again!" He hissed.

Hayner lifted his shoulders, studying Olette carefully as he took the coffee pot out of the maker and poured the steaming liquid into the mugs. "Sorry." He grimaced, setting a mug in front of Olette.

She dropped her face over the rising steam, inhaling the warmth, shoulders trembling. "Thanks."

Pence caught Hayner's eye and jerked his head at Olette before promptly swiveling his back to his friends. "Why are you crying?" He murmured softly to the baby. "Huh? Why are you crying?"

Hayner took Pence's prompt and moved the junk out of the nearest chair, sliding over to sit by Olette. "But, hey, Pence is handling Sarah, and here's some liquid caffeine." He indicated the mug. "You can stop freaking out now."

Olette pressed the heels of her hands over her eyes, her lips pursing and puckering together in the telltale sign of 'losing it'. Her body was shaking with the gasping spasms associated with crying, and it looked like the floodgates were about to open. Between the wailing, tiny, toothless baby and a panic-stricken, incoherent Olette, he had to choose Door Three: running. Door Three was locked at the moment, so Hayner bit his lip and, against his better judgment, put a hand on her back.

"I'm never going to have kids." She said matter-of-factly.

Hayner swallowed. Maybe the drooling little person in Pence's arms was the better choice. Olette was in one of those rare 'I fail at life' moods, a dangerous situation that needed careful handling and lots of ice cream. In her current, stressed, sleep-deprived state, however, he opted instead for going along with her.

"Sure you will."

"No." She looked at him sharply, tears streaming down her cheeks. "No, Hayner, I won't. Not because of the cosmos, but because I don't want to."

"Oh."…What?

"I can't handle it." She went on. "I don't know what to do. I'm exhausted. I knew it would be hard, but…I don't know…I guess I thought some sort of primal…maternal…instincts would kick in…but they didn't!" She grabbed Hayner's arm and he restrained the instinct to lean away. "I have no maternal instincts. How can I hope to have kids if I don't know how to take care of them?"

Hayner mouthed soundlessly, his brain beating itself against his skull: Get out, get out, get out!

"I'm going to be a terrible mother…No, I won't even be a mother. No kids…I can't do it. It's too much. No." She started waving her hands deliriously.

Pence was whistling the theme to Gilligan's Island, ignoring Hayner's attempts to beg for help with his eyes. Finding no assistance, Hayner stood and moved behind Olette, grabbing her shoulders and kneading the knotted muscles at her collar.

"That's okay. That's okay, that's fine." He massaged her shoulders. "So stop freaking out. You're fine." He tried to sound as calm as possible, because she was starting to freak him out too.

Sarah let loose a fresh, animalistic scream and Olette lifted her head, dropping it back toward Hayner, eyes pinched closed.

"How is this fine? I'm defective."

Hayner snorted, "No, you're not."

"My bologna has a first name, it's O-S-C-A-R." Pence was singing.

Olette frowned, eyes still closed, "Girls are supposed to know how to handle kids. When was the last time you met a female who didn't immediately know how to fix booboos and do the airplane with the spoon thing?"

"My bologna has a second name, it's M-E-Y-E-R."

Hayner gave Pence a flat look, but Pence just mouthed 'Switch?' and Hayner promptly turned his attention back to Olette.

"Kids…they aren't that great." He offered, still rubbing her shoulders.

Olette's eyes slid open and she blinked up at him. "Really?"

"Totally." He nodded. "They…All they do is eat, sleep, and poop."

"And cry." She added hoarsely.

"Exactly! They're needy and always have to be the center of attention. They're always drooling and sticky and they smell weird." He continued.

"But—"

"No, no." Hayner interrupted her. "No 'but'."

Olette grimaced, closing her eyes again. He took that as a positive sign that she was caving into the temptation of relaxing. He cupped his palms over her shoulders, rubbing his thumbs in small circles against the back of her neck.

Across the room, Sarah's screaming was dying down to loud crying, and Pence continued in the baby tribal dance he'd developed, turning and bobbing up and down to please the infant. He was singing some quiet little tune that Hayner didn't recognize right away.

"I'm so tired." Olette moaned.

"You're supposed to be tired." Hayner slowed his hands. "People taking care of babies are never well rested. You're spending your vacation as a stand-in mom. Your friend shouldn't have pawned her kid off on you like this. Her bad, not yours."

"But—"

"No 'but'." He squeezed her arms comfortingly.

"—with the bird in the egg and the egg in the nest and the nest on the branch and the branch on the tree and the tree in the hole and the hole in the ground." Pence fought not to break stride in surprise when Sarah reached a lull in her crying. "And the green grass grows all around, all around, and the green grass grows all around."

Sarah fell quiet, whimpering as Pence paused too. Sensing the danger, Pence took another deep breath.

"And in this bird…" He thought hard. "There was…DNA…The prettiest…DNA…That you ever did see—" Sarah made a throaty, pleased noise and Pence fought to come up with more lyrics. "Well the DNA in the bird and the bird in the egg and the egg in the nest—"

Hayner tuned him out, hearing only the lack of shrill crying, by both baby and Olette. His friend looked beyond exhausted, and he nudged the coffee away from her. She reached out to stop him.

"Hey—"

"You don't need caffeine. You need sleep." He explained.

Olette nodded, lowering her head to the table.

"In a bed." He added.

She grunted, "Can't I sleep here?" She groaned into the wood.

"No, you don't want to do that." Hayner looked over to Pence, who grinned victoriously, holding an almost giggling Sarah. "You want to sleep in a soft bed…with pillows and blankets and…a mattress."

"I can't…my body doesn't work." She rolled her face sideways to peek up at him. "I'm a mess."

He smiled for her. "I know. Come on." He pulled one of her arms across his shoulders. "To bed."

Olette swayed on her feet, "Just let me sleep here."

"You're hopeless." He bent forward slightly, sweeping one arm under her knees and scooping her up, bodily carrying her away from the kitchen.

"…Music and passion were always the fashion…At the Copa…they fell in love." Pence moved away from Olette's bedroom as Hayner carried her toward it.

"How is Pence good with kids? He works in tech support." Olette groaned, voice muffled against Hayner's shirt.

"Because he's a freak." Hayner replied casually.

Pence gave him a nonchalant middle finger as he continued to dance around with Sarah, singing to her. Hayner nodded and turned to carry Olette through the bedroom doorway.

"No, seriously." Olette lifted her head to look up at him. "Are you carrying me?"

"You told me to." He said with all the sincerity he could muster.

"I did?" She knit her brows, "Whatever…What was I talking about?" She wondered aloud. "Oh! It's not fair that Pence is good with babies…Girls are supposed to be good with babies, not guys!"

"Well, Pence can be a girl sometimes." Hayner knelt over her bed, lowering her onto the sheets.

"He stole my maternal instincts." Olette flopped back onto the pillow.

Hayner rustled the sheets, draping them over her, "Ah, Pence, you son of a bitch, how could you?"

Pence danced into view. "But Rico went a bit too far, Tony sailed across the bar…"

Sarah giggled and slapped her pudgy hands against his jaw.

"And then the pun-ches flew." Pence bobbed up and down with the beat of the song. "And chairs were smashed in two."

Hayner rolled his eyes and looked back at Olette. She had curled into the perfect fetal position, face burrowed into her pillow, out cold. Sighing, he rubbed the back of his neck and turned back to Pence.

"There was blood and a single gunshot, but just who shot who?" Pence was still dancing.

"That's a morbid song to sing to an infant." Hayner closed the door behind him, blocking the singing and Sarah's laughter from Olette's fatigued ears.

Pence sang over him. "At the Copa…Copacabana! The hottest spot north of Havana."

Hayner waved him off, crossing over to the kitchen table and draining the rest of his coffee before starting on Olette's derelict mug. It looked like they were going to be handling baby Sarah for a while…and by 'they', he meant Pence…So he'd need to stock up on caffeine. He was halfway through his second coffee when he cringed, nose crinkling.

Pence was grimacing too, also smelling it.

"At the Copa…Hayner, c'mere…Copacabana…" He waltzed towards Hayner.

Hayner backed up. "No."

"Music and passion were—you change the diaper—at the Copa…" He danced after him, never breaking the beat of the song.

Hayner backed up, realizing Pence was cornering him. "Keep the poop factory away from me."

Pence abandoned the lyrics, but kept talking in sing-voice. "I stopped the crying…She's not screaming anymore, but my arms are really sore…"

"Stop singing and get away from me!" Hayner hissed, ducking out of the kitchen and bounding back into the living room.

Sarah giggled as Pence chased Hayner around the living room, finally giving up when Hayner locked himself in the bathroom.

"Oh, fine." Pence surrendered, glaring at the bathroom door before finding the diaper bag on the kitchen table. He dropped the sing-song voice. "I can't think of anymore songs, so please don't start crying again."

Sarah was too busy sucking on her fist to do anything other than stare up at him with wide, blue eyes. Pence grinned and held her out at arms' length.

"I appreciate that." He fought the gagging reflex at the smell coming out of her diaper. "And you aren't going to do that thing where I take off your diaper and you pee on me, right?"

She cooed at him. He shrugged.

"Well, you are a girl, so that won't really be too much of a problem, right?"

The baby formed a reply to the effect of: "Amadaba."

"That's what I thought." He sighed, "But you like me better than Hayner, right?"

Sarah responded with a giggle…and promptly spit up all over his shirt front.

"Niiiiiiice." Pence made a face. "This is what I get for being the better friend."


End file.
